Once Upon a Valentine (25 page)

FORTY-FIVE MINUTES had elapsed.

Ginger could take a hint.

The Valentine Café officially knew nothing about romance, at least as far as Ginger was concerned, anyway. She considered writing a strongly worded letter to them to complain about their advertising campaign. It was lies, all lies.

I hate Valentine’s Day.

Ginger swallowed past the lump in her throat and began to gather her things, dropped her phone back into her handbag and pulled her coat on.

“More coffee?” a white-haired lady asked just before she stood up.

“Oh, no. No, thank you.”

The woman glanced at the empty seat across from her. “Romeo didn’t show?”

Ginger tensed, wanting to deny it but deciding that it didn’t really matter. “Afraid not. And his name was Brad.”

“Then Brad wasn’t the right Romeo for you.”

“You’re probably right.” She grabbed her long, wavy hair and pulled it over her shoulder. “Your flyers are misleading.”

“Flyers?”

“The ones that promise that this place can help a girl find her true love. I get that it’s just a line, but…oh, I don’t know. Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

The woman’s smile only grew warmer. “This…Brad. Did he give you any warning he wouldn’t show up?”

Ginger thought about it. “Well, he was gorgeous and successful. I guess that was warning enough.” She clutched the strap of her bag that held a manuscript she was currently editing—retellings of well-known fairy tales. It was one bright spot in her week. She was loving every page of it. “Forget it, I’m just feeling sorry for myself. It’s this stupid day. It brings out the worst in me. It just reminds me that I’m alone and, well, maybe sometimes I don’t want to be. Not all the time. It’s so hard finding somebody really great.”

“But not impossible.”

Well, that was true. Her parents had married after knowing each other exactly two days after they’d met. And thirty-five years of marriage later, they were still madly in love. They’d met on a blind date. Maybe that was why Ginger had been so willing to give it a shot tonight.

They were on a Greek Islands cruise right now. Three weeks of romance to celebrate their anniversary. Their
Valentine’s Day
anniversary.

Not everybody is lucky enough to find that kind of love,
she reminded herself.
Most people never do.

The thought made her sad.

“It just feels like I have to do all the work,” she said to the old woman. “I need to look, I need to search and spend my time and effort on finding someone. Just once, I wish my life was like a…like a fairy tale. For men to want me without me having to do anything at all. I want them to fall under my spell so I can finally figure out who is the perfect man for me without people playing head games and everything being a struggle.” She suddenly laughed at how absurd she sounded. “Sorry, I’m babbling. Too much caffeine, I guess.”

The lady held up her finger. “Wait here just a moment, dear. I think I have something that might help you.”

She did? Unless she had a gorgeous single son hiding in the kitchen, ready to fall madly in love with her, Ginger found that extremely hard to believe.

The woman disappeared into the back room and returned a minute later. “Eat this. It will make everything better.”

Ginger looked down at the napkin she held. On it was a small gingerbread man. Icing was piped on him to make him look modern—with a suit, a tie and a smile on his gingerbread face.

“My perfect man,” she said. “Totally edible.”

“It’s all yours.”

She laughed. “A cookie’s going to help me, you think? And how is it going to do that?”

The woman’s smile held. “Eat it and let it work its special magic. It will give you exactly what you want. It will lead you to the perfect man for you before midnight tonight. I promise it will.”

Midnight on Valentine’s Day. This sounded like a fairy tale in the making.

Ginger laughed. If nothing else, the ridiculous statement had cheered her up. A magic cookie, huh? Sure, it was. Well, it wasn’t a miracle or true love, but it
was
a free cookie.

“Thanks,” she said, still smiling as she took a small bite from the shoulder, chewed it thoughtfully and swallowed. “Magic cookies are delicious. Who knew?”

“Sit,” the woman said. “Have another coffee. I’ll make it a decaf this time. You’ll feel better in a minute.”

It was surprising how good the gingerbread man was. Melt in the mouth, buttery—sweet, but not too sweet. Perfect. It might not really be magic, but it filled Ginger with a warm feeling inside, like the cookies her mom used to make when she was a little girl, fresh from the oven just in time for her to come home from school. They’d been warm and tasted exactly like love. It reminded Ginger of a time when things were simple and she could take life as it came, rather than trying to analyze everything first.

That was a good lesson to learn, that life doesn’t have to be any more complicated than a cookie unless you let it. And Valentine’s Day was just another day on the calendar, nothing more than a sneaky way to get through the coldest part of the year.

Maybe that’s how the woman thought this cookie would work its magic. To remind Ginger not to take things so seriously.

“My goodness,” a voice said to her left. “You’re lovely.”

Ginger blinked with surprise and looked up to her right. A man stood there. He was fiftyish, with dark hair that was gray at the temples.

“Excuse me?”

“What’s your name?”

“Uh…” She frowned. “It’s Ginger.”

“Ginger,” he repeated slowly, as if appreciating the taste of each syllable. He gave her a warm smile and glanced down at the crumbs left over on her napkin from the cookie. “That’s my favorite spice.”

Sure, there was that. But she’d originally been named after the movie star on
Gilligan’s Island.
Her father had been a big fan of the show and when his baby daughter had been born with a shock of red hair, she’d received the name of the stranded movie star.

“Why are you all alone?” the man asked. “You should be with someone who will treat you right, especially on a night like this. Let’s go somewhere tonight. Anywhere you like.”

Ginger stared at him blankly. “Is this a joke? Because, trust me, I’m not really in the mood. It’s been a lousy evening.”

“I’m not joking. I’m thinking dinner, dancing. It is Valentine’s Day.”

This was very true.

“Excuse me?” A woman in her fifties approached him with a sour look on her face. “What on earth are you doing?”

He glanced at her. “I’m asking Ginger to go to dinner with me.”

“Yes, I can see that. My eyes and ears are working just fine, Larry.” The woman then turned her glare on Ginger. “You need to stay away from my husband.”

Ginger’s brows shot up. “Your husband?”

“Larry—” her voice turned shrill “—we’re leaving. Now.”

Larry reluctantly did as his wife asked, casting a sad look at Ginger. “Maybe another time.”

“Um…I doubt it.”

Larry’s wife took him by the arm tightly and directed him toward the door. He cast a last, regretful look over his shoulder before they left the café.

“That,” Ginger said as the woman who’d given her the cookie returned with a pot of coffee to refresh her mug, “was bizarre.”

She nodded. “Men can be unpredictable when it comes to romance.”

“That wasn’t romance. I didn’t even know him.”

The woman shrugged. “You did say you wanted your life to be like a fairy tale, right? Just like the one in your bag?”

How did the woman know what Ginger had in her bag? “Yes, but—”

“Sometimes wishes come true.” She winked. “Enjoy the rest of your Valentine’s Day, my dear.”

Ginger watched her depart back behind the counter. It had been a very strange night. Maybe she’d forgo the cupcakes and head straight to the liquor store for something a bit stronger than red wine.

Out of curiosity, she pulled the manuscript out of her leather bag and stared at the next story she was set to edit: “The Gingerbread Man.”

Well, that was definitely a fairy tale. However, it wasn’t exactly one with princesses and princes, royal weddings and happy endings. It was more about a cookie who ran really fast when it realized everyone wanted to eat it.

She definitely hadn’t wished for that. She’d wished for…what? She racked her brain. For men to show interest in her, for her to be the one to pick and choose who she wanted. Kind of like a less dramatic and more pleasant, real-life version of
The Bachelorette.
No gingerbread cookies need apply, other than the one she just ate, of course.

Her bag fell to the ground as she slid off her seat and got to her feet. Someone close by reached for it.

“Here,” a young blond man said, holding her bag out to her, a wide smile stretching across his face. “You dropped this.”

“Oh, thank you.” She shoved the manuscript back inside.

“My pleasure. Really.” He cupped her chin, then leaned forward and gently brushed his lips against hers.

“Hey!” She jumped back from him, shocked by the unexpected kiss. “What was that for?”

He frowned. “It’s so strange, but I couldn’t resist. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, just…don’t do that again.”

She glanced over her shoulder to see the man’s wife, or girlfriend, glaring at her as though she was some sort of a man-stealing seductress. It was too bad, really.
This
one was really attractive.
And
a good kisser. Still, he wasn’t acting rationally, and kissing strangers just wasn’t her style.

Ginger slipped outside before she started to laugh hysterically. It was all so absurd. Two men, already with other women, had shown interest in her. Out of the blue. Maybe there was hope for her yet. Only—with someone available.

“That lady was right,” she said under her breath. “I’d wished for more attention and I got it. Maybe that cookie
was
magic.”

As if. Ginger might edit fairy tales, but she didn’t necessarily believe in them. She might be a romantic, but she was a realistic one. What had happened with the two men had just been a fluke. She
had
taken extra time with her hair and makeup that evening. Maybe that was all it took to attract such attention.

Maybe next time she’d attract somebody
single.

When her laughter finally faded, she dug into her bag and pulled out her phone, leaning against the brick wall next to the café’s doors. She quickly called Stephen.

“Hello?” he answered. “See what I did there? I answered my phone with the common phrase ‘hello.’ None of this ‘uh-huh’ stuff.”

“Very impressive.”

“What’s going on? Has Mr. Perfect proposed yet?”

“I’m afraid it wasn’t a match made in heaven.”

“Oh, no. I’m really sorry to hear that.”

“You don’t sound all that sorry.” She frowned. “Are you drunk right now?”

“Not yet, but I’m working on it.”

“Things aren’t working out with the talented tongue?”

“The talented—? Oh, right. Her. Yeah, she’s…gone. Hell, who needs her? I mean, how much sex can one man handle, especially on a Tuesday night? I’m a weary, old middle-aged man now, you know.”

She couldn’t help but grin. An attractive and sexy man, yes. An old one…definitely not. “Listen, you wouldn’t believe what just happened to me.”

“What?”

“This woman—I think she owns this café…well, she gave me a cookie—she called it a
magic
cookie. Anyway, I ate it and I’ve been hit on twice.”